Chapter 14 – Echoes of the Past
Morning arrived in a hush, the village stirring to life with soft voices and the rustling of footsteps against the damp earth. Smoke curled from chimney tops, carrying the scent of fresh bread and boiling herbs. The air was crisp, the chill of dawn still clinging to the world before the sun could fully warm it.
Ymir stepped out of the hut, rolling the stiffness from her shoulders. Despite the peace of the village, her body had not yet unlearned the habits of war—light sleep, tense muscles, always ready to move.
Ember drifted beside her, stretching in an exaggerated motion despite his weightless form. "So, did you dream of grand revelations? Or was it just nightmares again?"
She shot him a glance but said nothing.
He hummed knowingly. "Nightmares, then."
Ymir ignored him, walking toward the village's main square. The villagers were already gathering, preparing for the day's tasks—mending clothes, tending to livestock, hauling water from the stream. A simple life.
A life she had never known.
A few villagers greeted her hesitantly, their gazes cautious but not hostile. Some were still uncertain of her, a stranger appearing as if from nowhere. They didn't question her strength or the way she carried herself, but they remained wary.
Not yet afraid.
"Ymir!" A small voice called her name, breaking through her thoughts.
She turned just in time for Lifa to run up to her, beaming. The little girl clutched something in her hands, her excitement barely contained. "I finished it!"
Ymir raised an eyebrow. "Finished what?"
Lifa opened her hands, revealing another wooden carving—this one a small wolf, its form rough but more refined than the bird she had given Ymir before.
"I wanted to make something stronger," the girl explained, her voice brimming with pride. "Birds are pretty, but wolves protect their pack."
Ymir stared at the carving, her fingers twitching at her sides.
A gift. Again.
She didn't know what to do with such things.
Before she could respond, Lifa's smile faltered. "Do you… not like it?"
Ymir exhaled, forcing down the unfamiliar weight in her chest. She reached out, taking the wooden wolf carefully. "It's… good work," she said finally.
Lifa's smile returned, bright as ever. "I can make you another one! Maybe a bear next time!"
Ember chuckled beside her. "Looks like you're building quite the collection."
Ymir rolled her eyes but said nothing. Instead, she ran her thumb over the wolf's carved ears, feeling the uneven texture of the wood.
A bird. A wolf.
Symbols of flight and strength.
She wondered what it meant that this child had given her both.
Before she could dwell on it, a commotion broke out near the village entrance. Raised voices, hurried footsteps—something was wrong.
Her body reacted before thought could catch up. She tucked the carving into her belt and strode toward the noise, Ember trailing behind.
As they neared the gates, she caught sight of the source. A group of villagers had gathered around a man—ragged, breathless, his clothes torn and his face streaked with dirt. He leaned heavily against a wooden post, struggling to catch his breath.
One of the elders stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The man swallowed hard before speaking. "Please… I need help."
His voice was hoarse, desperate. "They're coming."
Silence fell over the villagers. A cold sense of dread crawled up Ymir's spine.
Ember narrowed his eyes. "Well, that doesn't sound good."
Ymir's jaw tightened.
She didn't know what was coming.
But she was certain of one thing—peace never lasted long.